I quit Instagram a couple of weeks ago for hopefully the last time.
By quit, I mean that I deleted all of my posts, unfollowed everyone, and closed my account.
I know you’re probably thinking why is she saying quit when she means delete – I’m saying quit because social media feels like a sport to me that I was forced to participate in regardless of any real talent or passion for it. It felt like something to do and continue doing to belong.
Quitting sounds more final to me, and I guess I’m hoping that it is.
I didn’t tell anyone, I just disappeared again on a random weeknight at two in the morning.
Once it was done, I felt like I’d done it all outside of my own body, but it couldn’t be undone.
I’ve come back several times over the last few years under different usernames, but it just never felt like the very beginning.
The reason I fell in love with Instagram was because it was so focused on pictures versus words.
Words had been why I’d quit Facebook to begin with.
Being able to read what was on everybody’s mind every second of the day became too much for me.
After algorithms, influencers, and the ability to pay for followers, likes, and comments – I just fell out of love with Instagram.
I felt like a needle thrown into an ocean.
I don’t know why the lack of engagement in my photographs and videos mattered so much to me, but it did.
It does.
It made me feel as invisible on the internet as I did in my own life.
This was the last piece of social media to go for me.
Since quitting, there’s been feelings of guilt for missing the posts of family and friends. There has been moments where I have the urge to scroll through hours of short video clips and nowhere to do it.
It’s been weird trying to navigate and find what to fill the free time that I have now with.
The worst time for the “craving” is right before I go to bed.
I guess I never realized how much time I spent scrolling, but I did realize how shitty it was making me feel about myself and my life.
Eventually I know I’ll get over the feeling, but I feel like a creep for not having social media at 32.
Did I just commit social suicide?
What will other people think about me and why do I even care?
I kept coming back because I wanted a space for my videos and photos.
I wanted to share my point of view of the human condition.
But I couldn’t get away from the constant nagging in my head over the lack of likes and followers.
So, here I am, with hundreds of videos and thousands of photographs.
What am I going to do with all of these moments of time that I’ve captured?
I’m going to put them here. In my neck of the internet woods.
There might be about ten of you, but at least I know you’re here for the words and not to ask me if I’m looking for a sugar daddy, to sell me a waist trainer, or to spam me.
If you’re interested in seeing all of the moments in time that I’ve captured over the years, go to the top of my website where the menu is located, select ‘capturing the human condition’, and you will see three different sections:
- camcorder: this section will be for videos and their captions
- photo gallery: this section will be for all of my original photography all captured over the years with whatever android cellphone I’m using at the time with captions
- polaroid wall: this section will be a collection of all of the polaroids that have been used for my posts, I’ve edited these polaroids using all of my original photography all captured over the years with whatever android cellphone I’m using at the time with captions
I’m grateful you’re here.
Honest.
–S.
The Messy Middle 🖤 